Apple stores are goddamn scary

Now I’m all for interactive electronics stores. If I’m allowed to fondle your merchandise before buying, I’m 60% more likely to buy and 100% more likely to fondle.

But holy lord. If your name is Steve Jobs and you’ve crapped out dozens of things that play music, come in pretty colors, have touch screens, and allow handheld access to the internet, you must realize that there will be no building large enough to house the throngs of people who swarm to shove iPhones (or, for the ladies, iPads) down their pants in Wi-Fi ecstasy.

Seriously.

I went to the Apple store in the Oakridge Mall this afternoon ‘cause old Nano finally died. The sheer amount of nerdy Mac people in there was frightening enough, but when I saw one lady trying to teach her young daughter how to say “app” and some dude purchasing four Macbook Pros, I just wanted to sprint to the back counter, get my Nano, and sprint the hell back out of there. Not to mention the people who were talking on their iPhones while playing with the iPad displays.

I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or start picking out baby names that start with the lower case letter “i.” But hey, I got a new Nano. It’s yellow, because the 5th generation yellow looks astounding whereas the 5th generation orange looks too brown for my taste.